The Battle of the Northern Pass
by Willardee
Summary: An account of a battle between the forces of the Empire and the Hordes of Chaos
1. Chapter 1

Prologue 

Lieutenant Berkley entered his captains' office a little after lunch, a fresh report clutched tightly in his hand. "Captain, sir!"

"Yes, lieutenant?"

"Latest from the northern front, sir!"

Captain Neddick grasped the offered page and glanced over the first line.

He sat up reading it again.

It read:

_Incursion of host from North._

He sat a moment. The rest of the report gave little useful information. General unrest among the populace in that area, houses burned…

He contemplated a moment, and then queried his lieutenant, "Has anyone seen this?"

"None but you, sir!"

"I see," he paused. A large Elvin force would have trouble making the Northern pass this early in the year. It would have to be a smaller party, scouts perhaps, but they wouldn't be causing so much destruction. Nor would they have been detected as easily. Something was strange. Also strange was how far north this force had come. The elves had never struck this far north. Something big was going on. "Lieutenant; ready the regiment. We leave at first light tomorrow."

"Trouble, sir?"

"You have your orders."

"Yes sir!"

The man saluted smartly, turned on his heel and left Neddick to his own troubled thoughts. This next week would be eventful, that's for sure…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1 

Grim-Zul awoke, still marching.

The dull grey of the wastes greeted him. The only sounds were the clink of armor, the creak of leather, and the crush of 21 pairs of feet on the broken ground. He called to his troops.

"How long?"

A single voice answered him, "Three days."

Three days then. Three days in trance, in direct commune with the chaos gods he served. Three days marching, stopping neither for food nor rest; his men not questioning his leadership, merely keeping pace with their leader.

Grim-Zul altered his course slightly, heading south. He sensed as the 20 men behind him followed suit, each turning in unison to maintain their perfect line formation.

It would be another weeks marching before they reached the Empires northern border, then another few days before they reached their targeted outpost. The distance didn't faze the grim man. Nor would it have affected any of the men following him, had they know where they were going. But they didn't need to know, and they wouldn't.

Over a week…then they could rest. A battle first, but then they could rest.

And then, a weeks march back to the wastes.

Early on the second days march, dark shapes coalesced out of the mists, far off on the western horizon. By noon on the same day they were easily recognizable as a small host of demonic servitors. Two groups or hounds ran underneath a small swarm of furies. The centerpiece was composed of a hunting pair of magnificent demons.

The two parties approached and halted. The smaller of the two demons addressed Grim-Zul, "We have been sent for your aid. The dark lord wishes his plan to be carried out immediately."

"Of course. As my master wishes."

"Good. Mount up."

"As you command."

There were 8 furies, 10 hounds and the two demons. The smaller of them could not carry weight and still fly, so the larger bore two regular troops and Grim-Zul himself. As soon as the men were settled, they were off. The demons leading the pack, with the furies just behind, and the hounds keeping pace below.

Just after they took off, Grim-Zul wondered why they had been accelerated, but of course did not question the infinite wisdom of his lord and master.

By noon on the flowing day, they had reached the border. It was not a border of the chaos armies the lived outside it, for all the world was theirs and they had no borders. It was, however, the farthest south that patrols regularly maintained, and the farthest north that the men of the so-called Empire cared to defend. It was defined by a line trees.

Almost a perfect line, stretching as far to the west and east as far as the eye could see. Any further north, and the dark magic's that inhabited the wastes made it difficult for any life to find hold in the parched ground.

A few hours later, the small group landed in a clearing in the forest. The smell of wood-smoke permeated the still afternoon air, and a small plume of it could be seen not too far away.

The demons then dispersed into the forest to hunt for food, and Grim-Zul was once again left alone with his men, "I hunger. Let's see what the fine people of the Empire have prepared for me." He set off in the direction of the smoke, his men following silently.

A little while later, the forest started thinning out and the air was filled with the usual sounds of a small village. Lumber being cut, the bark of a few dogs, a few calls among the villagers. The only defensive position seemed to be abandoned. It had been many months since there had been any serious raids led by the forces of chaos, and the elven attacks had been far to the west, from sea. The people here had obviously become complacent, hiding behind the illusion of peace. Their mistake would be their downfall. Not that any guards would have made a difference.

"My lord?"

Grim-Zul turned to face the man that had spoken. One of the newer men not quite yet trained as well as might have been hoped. Grim-Zul just stared at the man, until his face had again hardened into what could have been any one of theirs. No emotion. No feelings. These were weaknesses in the eyes of the chaos gods. Grim-Zul closely eyed each one of his men and saw nothing in their faces. Perfection. He turned back to survey the village.

"Burn it. Take what food you want. Leave the bodies in a pile for the demons. They should feed well on the eve of battle."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2 

Captain Neddick was feeling confident as he led his garrison along the old forest road. It didn't matter how well the elves were trained, no scouting force could hold out against a regiment of his Excellencies state troops. A full 60 halberdiers had been mustered, as well as Neddicks unit of knights. A small group of freelancers had also been in the barracks that day, and had agreed to join the group. And, he thought smugly, Neddicks personal artillery service had been brought along. One each cannon and mortar, they had been presented to him on his appointment to first defender of the pass. His force was not really expected to fight any major battles, merely to hold an invasion force back long enough, or divert them in enough time for the Counts army to show up and rout them back into the mountains.

All in all, they made a very impressive display as the marched down the road, the small patches of sunlight glinting off halberds and armor, all freshly sharpened and polished. Lances and banners were held high, and the air positively felt full of camaraderie as the men made their way along the path. Neddick again check his families' prized sword in its scabbard. Passed down generation from generation as long as anyone could remember, it was a truly magnificent blade. The very best steel, it seemed to bite into armor more than usual. It had saved his life countless times.

All of a sudden, Neddick was forced to pull up short as the men in front of him stopped. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Some sort of commotion up front, sir."

Neddick pondered a moment, and then spurred his horse to the front of the line. There was a group of his soldiers crowded around something in the road. He dismounted and pushed his way forward. In the middle of the laneway was a man, apparently collapsed from exhaustion. His clothes were singed, and his skin, where it showed was covered in soot and dirt.

"Bring this man some water! And be quick!"

"Yes sir!"

Some men left and soon came back with canteens. Neddick poured some down the mans throat, and soon he coughed and woke up, sputtering. He cautiously looked around and then he seemed to realize where he was.

"Demons! Demons!" he cried. Neddick needed information that only this man could give. "Calm down! You're safe now. What happened to you?"

The man looked around with wild eyes, taking in everything. "They came out of the forest. We couldn't have known! So many of them…but not that many…" His eyes were already starting to droop and become less focused. He was utterly spent.

"Who were they? Were they Elves?"

The man rolled his head towards Neddick, and for a brief moment, he was fully attentive. Then it was gone, and he was wild again.

"Elves? Men? Who could say? Armor, all armor…and everywhere at once…" And with that, he was asleep again. Neddick ordered his men to take him to the rear of the line to have his surgeons take care of him, and climber up his mount once more. The line slowly started moving again, but there was a feeling of not quite fear among the men, but…uneasiness. They were spooked. Demons, the man had cried…Elves did not tolerate their existence any more than did the races of man, but being everywhere at once was a familiar Elvin tactic. As he rode, Neddick found himself think about what he was getting into.

"The next settlement is the Brandy River ferry by this road, is it not?" he asked his lieutenant, who was riding next to him.

"Hmm…I should like to stop there. To rest and also to see if we can find out anything else."

"Very good sir."

They had been marching for most of the day, and lunch was a few hours behind them when a small stirring passed through the men, with no apparent cause. Neddick was about to inquire when he smelled the air; it was thick with smoke. He turned to face his lieutenant, "It seems that I have all the information I'm going to get from the ferry."

"I should say so, sir."

As they continued around the next bend, the forest cleared and they beheld a terrible sight. The village was a smoking ruin, the only remains a few small burned out husks of buildings, and further back, the bridge could be seen, all its timbers charred and mostly gone. But beyond that was a sight that made every mans blood run cold.

Demons.

Actual Demons.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3 

Neddick didn't say anything for a minute, his mind reeling, "This is no Elvin raid. Form the line. Form the line!" At the order, men ran for their positions.

Lieutenant Berkeley came over, "Your orders, sir?"

"I'll lead my horsemen and one unit of halberdiers to the left; you lead the knights and another unit of halberdiers to the right. Sergeant!" he called over the man in charge of the artillery. "Set up as fast as possible. I'm leaving the last unit of halberdiers under your command." Neddick had noticed that there was a group of the flying furies in the opposing force, and knew that his artillery would be vulnerable without protection.

"Yes, sir," they said together.

Both men immediately left to organize their forces. Neddick himself sat back with the rear wagons to oversee the operation. They were a well trained group, and it wasn't long before they men were in position, waiting for his order. Across the field, he could see the forces of chaos getting into position. It wouldn't be long now. This wasn't what they had expected. It wasn't what they had prepared for. The forces of chaos hadn't been seen this far south in months…years maybe! And yet, here they were. Neddick knew his men were shaken. He couldn't blame them. He was shaken himself. But he couldn't show it. He was a Captain of the Empire! He would hold strong in the face of the enemy! He had sworn to hold to his last breath, and if that would be today, then so be it.

"Men!" he had to think of something, and quick…

"You weren't expecting to face these…creatures from the netherworld, and neither was I. But don't let that shake you! We are the Empire! We will hold strong! But don't stand to the last. The Emperor must be warned! The Elves have been the major threat to our borders for a long time now. These demons must be stopped! And if not today, then tomorrow, or the day after! But they WILL BE STOPPED! Now, MAKE READY!!"

His men cheered. As Neddick hurried over to his unit of horsemen, the cheers of his men followed him. Finally, the force was assembled. Neddick took one last look over the keen faces of the men who would fight and possibly die here today. Scared…but determined. They were ready. He turned to face the enemy. So were they. He took a deep breath… then:

"MOVE OUT!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4 

Grim-Zul sat quietly, waiting. The Empire forces would come to him eventually, if he let them. Let them have the first move. It mattered not. He was actually surprised at how small the opposing force seemed to be. Knights and horsemen and cannons could be lethal, he knew, but they would be irrelevant in this battle.

He had chosen to ride the smaller demon for the duration of the battle. There were enough flying units to hamper the rear guard sufficiently. Even as he watched, the furies and the larger of the pair took to the skies, closing the distance between them and the left flank of the Empire troops rapidly. He watched for a while, and then urged his demonic mount forward, towards the right flank, and the shining armor of the knights. The hounds suddenly let loose with a fearsome and tremendous howl, a sound not of this world. Then they seemed to leap towards the largest concentration of man, right in the middle, where the artillery was positioned. His own men were still in their perfect line, marching inexorably forward, never slowing. Still, the speed of the demons was causing them to bring up the rear. Shame.

Just then, the cannon let fire. Great clouds of steam and smoke rose from the infernal machine, and a thunderous blast reached Grim-Zul's ears. A second later, he clung to his beasts' neck as it shuddered and nearly collapsed. A direct hit.

The mortar too let loose at that point. Grim-Zul decided the black powder weapons deserved more respect than he had originally intended, and watched as the shell rose high into the air; watched it slowly curve, caught in the strong winds. It came down and exploded, far from his troops. So much for that. The crews of the machine rushed around them, hurrying to reload as fast as possible.

Even wounded, his mount was still covering vast amounts of land, rushing towards the burned out husk of a building that was hiding the knights from view. There was also a unit of halberdiers in that area, too, but they would be further back, not as much of a threat.

Risking a look to the other side of the battlefield, Grim-Zul saw as the furies landed well behind the front line of men, next to the mortar. The demon had positioned itself in front of another wrecked building, probably once a mill of some kind. Just on the other side was the unit of horsemen, led by their pathetic captain, and further back, another unit of halberdiers.

By this time, the artillery had been reloaded, and the cannon again let loose. Not being able to see it directly, he could only see the results as the ball smashed through a line of his men, carrying two of them away, and smashing their bodies on the soil.

No sound came from the mortar. And Grim-Zul laughed inwardly at the unpredictability of the Empires strongest weapons. Temperamental, they seemed to harm their masters as much as their intended targets. This suited Grim-Zul just fine.

By this time the knights had made their way around the building between them, and Grim-Zul roared with delight as he led his mount forwards in charge. The faces of the men in front of him seemed momentarily to teeter on the edge of fear, but then recovered and met his charge with a line of steel. His demon made contact, and began slashing out at man and horse alike. So ferocious were its movements that Grim-Zul was hard pressed to find his own openings and make a few attacks of his own. It seemed like only minutes before the men gave way before the relentless onslaught of man and beast. Turning, they began to run away, and almost all of them made it but at the last moment the demon lashed out and grabbed one of the men right off his horse and dragged him screaming back towards its waiting maw. One less knight to worry about in the world. That dealt with, Grim-Zul surveyed how the battle was going.

The furies had obviously dealt with the crew of the mortar, their broken carcasses draped over the now silent machine. Then they had rolled on to the horsemen, who were already engaged with the other demon. The Empire Captain was holding his own for the moment, but he saw his situation turn desperate as the furies drew close, and relieved himself from combat long enough to send a signal for the reserve unit of halberdiers to come to his aid. The hounds had moved themselves into the perfect position to stop that unit, and made the lunge towards them now. The hounds were weak, however, and were only being used to hold the men where they were until a stronger unit could come to destroy them.

The Empire Captain saw this as well, and Grim-Zul watched with satisfaction as a look of desperation crossed the mans face. Then he laughed and the demon charged towards the aid of the hounds.

His men dying around him, Captain Neddick realized all was lost. All across the battlefield, his forces were being clearly overpowered. The only units not engaged were his cannon, and the last unit of halberdiers. The sergeant of that unit was looking for his captains eyes through the thrashing bodies and hulking demons. For an instant, their eyes met, and Neddick waved towards the forest, and the path from which they had come. The path to safety. The sergeant nodded and began ordering his troops to retreat; he also began shouting at the gunner chief in charge of the cannon, but the man was too engrossed in his work and waved him off. They were taking aim for one final shot. Neddick couldn't spare any more thought for them though, as the battle surged around him and some more of the knights lost their lives to slashing claws and razor sharp teeth.

He threw himself at the massive demon in front of him, making a valiant effort to wound the massive beast.

He slashed left with his sword, and managed to block a blow with his shield. The demon roared, and raised a fist high into the air, intending to crush the man. Neddick saw this, and lunged at the beasts' chest in one, final desperate attack; but he was stopped short as a flash of pain broke through his thoughts. Looking down, he saw a massive spike erupting through his chest. The demon seemed to revel in the blood that splattered over its face and body, now a gruesome gore-covered visage.

Neddick took one last breath, and watched the terrifying maw draw closer as the beast raised him to its mouth. His last thought before the end was of his home; far to the south…he would miss it.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5 

The sergeant had his men on the run, back into the forest. He rushed over to the cannon crew, to make one final plea for them to flee to safety. He approached the gunner chief, who was currently directing his men to aim the machine at the demonic hulk the Captain had just been engaged with.

"You've got to get out of here!"

"The Captain needs to be avenged!"

"You can't save him! We need to warn the Empire!"

"You go! We'll hold them off!"

The sergeant realized this was a futile argument, saluted quickly, and followed his unit into the forest. The sounds of screaming as the furies eventually cut into the gun crew were only slightly muffled by the thick trees surrounding them.

Now they had to move south as fast as possible. The Emperor and the Empire had to be warned about this new threat from the North. The Elves could wait. This was a power that showed no mercy, no fear.

Even with a proper army, the Sergeant privately wondered if they could ever be stopped.


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue 

Grim-Zul sat quietly, as his demonic steed finished feeding off the bodies of the halberdiers, watching as the furies finally left the remains of the cannon behind, now surrounded by a pile of bones and bloody flesh.

He dismounted, and marched over to his troops, standing in perfect line where he had left them. The only casualties had been the two hit by the cannon at the beginning of the battle, and the men had already reorganized into rank formation. "We will rest here for the night, then head home at first light."

The company replied in one voice, of one mind, "Yes, Sir!"

Grim-Zul nodded slowly. The sound of heavy footfalls approached from behind him. He turned to face the demon that had been his mount for the battle. "Everything went to the Great Lords plan?"

"Yes, Grim-Zul. You have pleased my master. Your reward shall be most fitting."

"As my master wishes. It does seem a shame, though…letting those men leave. They will warn the Empire. The next battle may not be won with such efficiency."

The demon cocked its head to the side, as if listening for something, "Indeed. We wouldn't want that would we, Grim-Zul."

"No, master."

The demon stared hard at him for a while, and Grim-Zul wondered if he had made a transgression, questioning the indomitable will of his master. Then the demon simple leapt into the air, and began winging its way south, following the course them men had disappeared to mere hours before. The other demons, their purpose served, began to disperse into the surrounding forest, to kill and destroy whatever they came upon. Much blood would be spilled this night.

Grim-Zul would sleep well.


End file.
